“Did she hit you?” she continues.
“She’s not a violent person.”
“Neither am I, but my palm’s twitching. I badly need to hit you for her.”
Words I never thought I’d hear from my baby sister.
“Let’s concentrate on the issue at hand. I need to talk her.”
Pippa scoffs. “How about what she needs?”
“What do you mean?”
“Her message said you’ll talk when she’s back, right?”
“Yeah,” I say hopefully. Pippa seems to understand far more of the situation than I do.
“To me this just reads like she needs some distance from your sorry ass.”
“Distance? How’s that helpful? She’s pregnant, for God’s sake. What she needs is for me to take care of her and pamper her and make sure she’s not overworking herself.”
Pippa’s mouth twitches. “You’re aware Clara has been living thirty years of her life without you, yes? She’s very self-sufficient.”
“But she doesn’t have to be, that’s the point. What if she’s sick? The first trimester is the one with morning sickness. I’ve read about it.”
“Did you now?” Summer asks. For some reason, she seems to be having a field day with this.
“Yes, I did. I had a long night with no Clara to read just about everything. This isn’t the time for her to be alone. I want to take care of her, and the baby.”
“So you’re happy about the baby?” Pippa asks.
“Of course I am. Last night, before everything blew up in my face, I planned to ask her to move in for good, make this official. I love her, and I love that baby too.”
“Your heart is in the right place,” Pippa concludes. My sisters exchange another glance, and something in their expression sets me on edge.
“When did you talk to her? What did she say?” I ask them.
“She didn’t say much,” Summer says quickly.
“You’re lying.” I’m looking straight at Summer now. Pippa has a good poker face, and she can stick to her guns if needed, but Summer has never been able to resist spilling information to me when she had it. Until now.
“Not lying. Just withholding information,” Summer says weakly.
Pippa groans. “She told us that in confidence.”
“Girls,” I warn. “I need to know what she told you.”
A moment of silence, and then Pippa shakes her head. “I’m usually not a fan of breaking another woman’s confidence, but I do think you need to know. She called me yesterday, and I was with Summer. It took her a while to get to the point. I think she was trying to test out if we’d be happy about the news or not. She was...well, from experience I can tell you pregnancy hormones aren’t a joke. It’s like PMS on steroids. Once I burst out crying during a commercial for baby cough syrup because I suddenly thought how awful it must be to have your baby die from a fit of coughing.”
Summer and I stare at her, stricken. Pippa is oblivious to our horror.
“But back to Clara. When she finally did tell us, she said she hoped we’d love the baby too, accept him o
r her as part of the family, even if Clara wouldn’t belong to it. She told us that she’d manage being a single mother, she’d come through for her baby, and she wasn’t worried about the money, but that she really hoped the child wouldn’t grow up without an extended family, because it would be a lonely childhood. I suspect she was thinking back to her own childhood.”
Jesus. I lean back in the chair, running my hand through my hair in frustration. Clara is amazing, and I’ve never felt more grateful for something as I am for having her in my life. I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve her, but I’m madly in love with her, and I want to shout it from the rooftops. For now though, I want to tell her. She needs to know.
“I need to talk to her,” I repeat for maybe the hundredth time today.